Some Call It Stalking, I Call It Love
by ShortLeggedGiraffe
Summary: Harry Potter's fame has soared to new heights with the defeat of Voldemort. What's the one thing that would make his celebrity statis complete? A stalker of course!


**This is just a really random story that I thought of while I was supposed to be studying English… **

**This story is kind of an inside joke with me and my friend because we always joke about how we "stalk" people. Don't freak out, we don't really stalk people… _or do we?_**

**This story is all in good fun, and should not be taken seriously…at all.**

**This chapter will be in the stalker's point of view, and the next chapter will be in Harry's and so on and so forth…**

**enjoy!**

**Some Call It Stalking, I Call It Love**

**Chapter one**

**A Lot of Dead Ends**

I woke up bright and early. Well, apparently not early enough. I had to be at my job, a lowly secretary position at the Ministry of Magic, in a department that no one really knows or cares about, in about an hour. That wasn't nearly enough time to get ready for work, and watch him eat his breakfast.

_Maybe he'll notice me today_, I think eagerly. _No, probably not. And besides, I like our relationship just the way it is._

I get dressed as fast as I can, before I dash out the door, I admire my shrine of posters and pictures of him on my bedroom wall. _Oh Harry, you are so perfect_. I kiss one of the larger posters of his beautiful face, grab my binoculars, and dash out the door.

Once I'm at my dead end job, I sit down at my dead end desk and start on my dead end work. While I'm doing my dead end work I think about my dead end morning…wait, that wasn't dead end. It was good. Harry had a muffin this morning on the way to work, and dropped some of it on the sidewalk. I picked up the crumbs and wrapped them in a napkin which is now tied securely around my neck, next to the little glass vile full of sweat and debris that I collected off of his towel at the gym.

So I am sitting at my dead end desk at my dead end job, we went through this already… and my boss walks up to me looking severely pissed off. And, being the apprehensive person that I am, I immediately ask what I did.

"You were late _again_, for the fourth time this month!" He growls at me. I scoot back a little in my chair because he's yelling, but mostly because his breath smells like he just ate an animal that had been dead for several days that had died of a garlic overdose…that is actually possible, it happened to my cat- back to the story.

"If you're late one more time _you are fired_!" He screams, as the plant on my desk withers and dies. I wait for him to walk away before I cough uncontrollably because of the dead animal garlic stench. Thank god for Febreze®.

I get back to my dead end work when someone walks up to my dead end desk. Not just anyone. The One. No, not like "The One" in the Matrix, the real The One. The One fo' realz… I'm confusing myself…Do you still not know who I'm talking about? Harry! Harry walked up to _my_ dead end desk. It was like a dead end dream, except _not_ dead end.

"Someone pinch me," I mutter under my breath. "Ouch! It's just an expression!"

Harry looks at me. I look at him. He blinks. I blink. He shifts uncomfortably. I shift uncomfortably- but that was probably because I was sitting on my dead end stapler. He blinks again. It's like a romance novel.

"Hello, can you help me find the Boring Things That We Can't Even Specify Department?"

"This is the Department for Boring Things That We Can't Even Specify, can I help you?"

"Yes, where can I find Mr. Hugh Jazz?"

"Mr. Hugh Jazz is in his office, right around the corner to your left."

"Thank you."

I thought I was going to wet myself…and I did a little. He spoke to me, he actually _spoke_ to me. This is sooo going in my diary.

That evening after work, I was perched behind my telescope, as usual, waiting for him to get home to his flat a few blocks from mine. I had my telescope magically upgraded to be able to see much farther than the normal muggle telescope. Working at the Ministry, it's a little tricky keeping things like my Harryscope (that's what I call it. Clever, right?) hush-hush from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, but I manage.

The Harryscope started beeping, so that meant he is home. I adjust the zoom to see him hanging his coat up, walking, walking, still walking, and then sitting down in a chair. Riveting.

"Wait a minute!" I shriek as I frantically adjust the zoom. "There is someone else with him!"

I finally get the view just right to see a short, slender, bushy- haired girl sit down at the table across from him.

"What the fuck- who is _she_?" I ask myself loudly, following her with the Harryscope. She looked really familiar. I had definitely seen her from somewhere. Something instantly clicked in my head.

"Of course!" I exclaim. I rush from away from the Harryscope and rummage through a box of newspaper clippings where I keep all the articles and photographs I find about Harry. I dig through the box until I come across a picture that was on the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ a few years ago when he killed Voldemort. Harry is in the picture surrounded by a lot of other less important people that helped. I scan the names listed in the caption… "Aha! There she is, Hermione Granger!" She's standing next to Harry in the picture, yet I never really noticed her before.

I mosey back to the Harryscope with the picture in hand. "What does she want with Harry, anyway?" I ask myself. "She's probably just some creepy girl that is obsessed with Harry Potter. I'm so glad _I'm_ not like that."

**And that is chapter 1, sorry this chapter is really short…it's exam time and I really should be studying, once school's out the chapters will get longer.**

**Please review!**


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